


Drop By Drop

by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Dark, M/M, Murder, Smut, character I made up dies, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Pairing: Crowley x Castiel (Crowstiel)Word Count: 3,280 (Whoops a bit longer than a drabble.)A/N: I’m angry, emotional and I needed an outlet.  This is not like my usual stories. THIS IS VERY DARK! You have been warned. Serial Killer AU so death, murder, blood and ... SMUT. This was written for the first run of Crowley Weekend by request and it also fills the square, Coming Untouched for SPN Kink Bingo. This is my interpretation of how they would be as serial killers. The story is told from Crowley’s POV. More fluffy Crowley is coming up next I just needed to work through my emotions.





	Drop By Drop

[Also posted on Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/161300582726/drop-by-drop)

 

I needed a kill, needed it in my bones. My hands were shaking as I clutched the wheel, sweet was pouring down my face. All I could see was blood, screams and more blood. I closed my eyes for a second. The road was dark. There were no other cars here so it didn’t matter if I rested my eyes for a second. A second to compose my thoughts, so my murderous impulses wouldn’t control me.

 

 

A soft feather light touch caressed my cheek and brought me back to the present. “Feathers,” as I called him, always brought me back to myself. He was my salvation. We didn’t say anything, we didn’t need to. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed. He made a small nod before he stared out the window at the desolate locale around us.

 

 

I smirked and put my foot down harder on the pedal. I wanted to get there as fast as possible. I watched as the darkness swallowed the road around us. I always felt comfortable in the dark, always hid in the shadows. I am Crowley, “the King of Hell” and this here next to me is Castiel, “Feathers.”

 

 

People come to me to make deals to either to save their miserable lives or to try and get me to kill who they want. My life is spent in blood and pain. The only light in it is Feathers. I’m an arsonist and Feathers here, well he’s known for his light touch, preferring to kill with poisons either laced on his skin or in a drink. Always be wary of having tea with us. Castiel isn’t as twisted and damaged as I am. He doesn’t have the sadism I do. He doesn’t enjoy hearing their suffering and their begging like I do. If I’m being honest, that’s one of the reasons why we work so well together. He keeps me from getting caught. He reins me in. It’s been awhile since we had a round of killing. I can barely remember the last victim, can barely remember him pleading with me. Serial killers come in all types but for me, I live off the power of the kill, the memory of it and with no memory to speak of, I start to fall into a depression. I’m moody and angsty and that’s not fair to Castiel; I need a fresh kill and he knows it.

 

 

I drive all through the night. Who needs sleep, really? We made it to a small town. A town that had a nice homey feel to it. If we weren't who we were, we might consider staying here, getting married and having kids but we couldn’t. We were both too broken for normal.

 

 

We stepped out of the old fashioned car into the sunlight meeting the eyes of quite a few people milling around in the town square. It reminded me of the scene from, “Body Snatchers,” when they started pointing and screaming at the one human that didn’t belong. Maybe these people knew we didn’t belong. Maybe they saw through our smiling faces into the darkness behind it.

 

 

I leaned by the car and just stared at the people walking on the boulevard. Aside from a few suspicious and confused gazes, they all looked so happy. I watched them, “aged father fed up with kids,” “loving mom smiling at the day,” “young lovers,” “secret affair,” “happy small business owner opening his shop,” “kids yelling in happiness,” playing some game. It looked so tranquil and untouched by the ravages of time but someone had to die.

 

 

We were so far away from our last kill. By the time the police caught up with us, we’d be in the next town over.

 

 

The stupid news outlets thought we were younger, and brothers, actually. They couldn’t figure out our pattern, our motive. They couldn’t get that it was random. We pick people at random, people that make us happy to kill. Period. Our course we have rules; never kids or families always single men.

 

 

They call us, the “Pillow Murderers,” I groan every time I read that. Fucking Feathers over here has to leave feathers at the crime scene, hence our name. He says it’s a calling card. I say it’s bloody ridiculous. The crazy things we do for the ones we love. The name’s almost comical considering how dark the two of us are but the news always gets serial killers wrong.

 

 

A man catches my eye. I look him up and down. Just a random man in a suit, a business man like I used to be so long ago. He looked out of place here. The smile on his face seemed to be mocking me. As if he were saying, “I’m happy with my life.” He walked with confidence, safe and secure in his being hood. He was boasting to me. It was as if the universe was pushing me to kill this man. Who was I to say no to the universe? I nodded to Castiel letting him know I had chosen.

 

 

We walked slowly, further into town. I ignored everyone else, my eyes on the target. He was going into the dinner, which was perfect. We hadn’t eaten yet and I was very hungry. I drove all through the night. A normal person would have wanted sleep but I couldn’t sleep not until this man died. Castiel smiled at the people and even flirted in front of me. He said it was to keep up appearances but I think he liked people, wanted to be like them. But couldn’t. He lived every day craving to wake up to find his sadistic impulses gone but they were never gone. They remained. I hear him whispering a woman’s name sometimes, almost reverently. The very woman he lost in his other life before we were this, before we were together joined in blood by our pain.

 

I grabbed his hand and ignored the looks. They could fuck themselves. This man and his cock belonged to me. I was what he thought about now, what he wanted now. After a few seconds of surprise, he wasn’t all for PDA, he looked over to me and smiled understanding this is what I needed.

 

 

We walked into the dinner and looked around. A very thin, too thin if you ask me, woman sauntered over to us beaming with menus in her hand. It was too god damn early to be this bloody cherry. What was she on? And that, what I can only assume she thought was a cute smile, was enough to make me want to kill her instead.

 

 

She saw us standing close together and a look came over her face and she nodded; smiling, as if we needed her approval to be together. She probably thought it was cute. We weren’t cute. It was love. God, did I hate some small towns. The other one was more open-minded. Our last victim joined us for one of the best threesomes we even had. He was a great lover, very attentive, adventure even.

 

 

I looked down at the menu not seeing anything appetizing. Greasy diner food wasn’t my thing. I was after the finer things in life. I closed my eyes and remember victim #10 and the dinner party we held to kill him. The wine was delicious and the food was to die for. Pun definitely intended. Sadly all good things must come to an end and after hours of vigorous, passionate sex, he had to die.

 

 

I was suddenly snapped out of my reverie by a small child playing with a toy. He was so loud and running around the dinner as if it were his home. I was surrounded by morons! The whole world was filled with morons which is one reason why I didn’t feel bad killing anyone, one less moron for the world to put up with. I groaned when I saw Castiel kneel to address the child.

 

 

He kept his voice soft and comforting, “Hi there kiddo. Where’s your mommy?”

 

 

“Ova der,” the kid said with a smile pointing to a frustrated woman on the phone.

 

 

“Mmhmm seems like she’s busy. You just want to play?”

 

 

The kid nods looking up at Castiel with wide eyes.

 

 

“I have a better idea on how to play. Wanna hear it?”

 

 

“Wes,” the kid said enthusiastically.

 

 

I watched incredulously as Castiel took a crayon out of his trenchcoat pocket.

 

 

“You had a sodding crayon in there the whole time?” I asked staring at them both.

 

 

“I have a lot of stuff in here,” he replied winking at me.

 

 

Typical, teasing me at a diner with a child. He was terrible at social interactions and what was appropriate to say in public. I’ve been working with him on sexual innuendo and social references; apparently, it was coming back to bite me in the ass.

 

 

The child took the red crayon excitedly.

 

 

Castiel pointed to the action figure the boy was clutching. “It’s dangerous to play with that. You could hurt yourself running around here. It’s safer to sit down and play with this crayon. A crayon is a powerful tool of any child’s imagination. I’m trusting you to do good and amazing things with it.” The kid looked down at the crayon wide-eyed by what the stranger told him.

 

 

As if on cue, to really prove his point that running around was dangerous, a waitress came up behind them clearing her throat and throwing them daggers with her eyes. The child looked up surprised, not having seen her walk over to them. With Castiel’s suggestion, the child moved out of the way, grabbing the crayon and running off to his table. Castiel moved back to the booth sitting across from me.

 

 

“Are you bloody serious, Love?”

 

 

“No sense in the child getting hurt or causing a scene. Not the point of why we’re here. And he reminds me of…”

 

 

Castiel looked down and stopped speaking to me. I felt like a horse’s ass reminding him of just how much he lost. Of course he’d speak to a child. He’s always speak to children. If things had happened differently, I’m sure he would have been an amazing father. Sometimes I’m in my head too much for my own good.

 

 

After a beat, Castiel spoke again, “And all the better. When the murder happens, who would think it was the kind couple who talked to the child?”

 

 

Smirking, I added, “Always running a con, are we darling?”

 

 

“My ability to ‘run cons’ as you call them help us to evade capture. You and I would never survive in prison. We belong here together and doing what we do best.”

 

 

I thought about what he said for a bit, nodding. Castiel played with the napkin, making an origami animal while I watched our target.

 

 

The waitress came over to us shaking her hips and beaming down at us. Bloody hell - what was with the smiling? Maybe it was just because I went too long between kills? I’m on edge after all. Every sound was making me jump and I hated humanity more than usual. I bark out an order for a burger and he does the same. The second miss bubbly leaves, I stare at the target, wondering what his life is about. Castiel keeps making origami animals.

 

 

By the time the food comes, the table is full of them. The waitress laughs and so do I. Castiel is always a character, no one can change him, he is such a deep person, childlike, socially inept, romantic, a fantastic lover, a con-man, and a cold and calculating killer all at once. It’s fascinating really. We eat in a hurry trying to time ourselves so we leave when the target does.

 

 

The second he’s finished, Castiel nods and moves to the bathroom after the man. I throw down enough money to pay the bill and give our waitress a good tip. I move to the back of the restaurant passing the bathroom and running to the back door. I jimmy the lock and run out pulling the car around to the back. A second later, Castiel is pushing a heavily drugged man out the back door and we leave together. We have perfect timing like always.

 

 

My heart races, I feel exhilarated. It was going to finally happen. I watched Castiel put away the chloroform rag into the glove compartment. A calmness seemed to spread over me and Castiel beamed at me. I stopped the car at a stoplight close to the location, waiting for the light to change.

 

 

Castiel reached out and gently turned my head towards him, cramming his lips onto mine; replacing the calmness I felt from obtaining our new victim to excitement. I moaned into the kiss withdrawing only when we heard honking behind us. His eyes were dark and predatory. I licked my lips at the dark promise and sped off faster.

 

 

We got there quickly with no problems. We tied the unconscious man to a chair in the middle of the room while we got ready. By the time this moron woke up, the entire place was covered in tarp. I stood in front of him watching as he slowly opened his eyes. I relished the fear in them as he looked around realizing his predicament.

 

 

“What the hell? Who are you?!”

 

 

Smirking, I say rather eloquently, “Vehicles of your doom, of course, Darling.”

 

 

Castiel rolls his eyes at my theatrics and adds, “We apologize but you are needed to quell a desire we both have.”

 

 

The man looks confused and then realization hits as he thinks he’s puzzled out why he’s here. “Wait a minute. I don’t. I - I’m not into men.”

 

 

“You stupid, little, moronic human. How typical. You go to sex. Please. It’s nothing that cliché, Love. We’re serial killers.”

 

 

I watched as the man laughed at the two of us clearly not believing me. I slowly reached over and grabbed a knife cutting his arm and watching the blood flow. I was transfixed for a moment. All sounds in the background, his voice, everything just drowned out and all I could see was his blood.

 

 

I closed my eyes and without hesitation I cut into this man not caring about his stupid pleas for mercy or whatever he was saying. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the kill. I took my time, trying to commit it to memory: this man, this kill.

 

 

Sometimes Castiel killed with me, sometimes we took turns like today. I was a master at this and my victim lasted a while. I learned the tools of the trade from a man called Alastair, my teacher. The second that I was finished, I felt so tired and peaceful, happy even.

 

 

Castiel’s hands were on my face. He was looking at me with pleading eyes to remain awake. For him, I could do anything he asked. His lips met mine gently. I moaned into it and kissed him back passionately. I grabbed the back of his head and his arms wound around my back holding me to him. That’s what I needed, his arms around me. When he disconnected from my lips, his face changed, got darker. He chuckled and I knew then we were playing a dominance game and he was my Master. I just killed someone, still experiencing that high. I was almost always his Dom but if the look was anything to do by, i was in for quite a treat. I couldn’t wait to do whatever he told me to.

 

 

“Today I’m your Dom and you will listen to me, right?”

 

 

“Yes Castiel.”

 

 

“Who’s Castiel?”

 

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

 

“Better. How did it feel? How did it feel to end his life?”

 

 

“Good. I felt powerful. I took a life. A man that was happy.”

 

 

“Like we used to be in our old lives.”

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

“I want you to pull down your pants and take you cock out. Can you do that for me?”

 

 

I nearly groaned at his comment. He was getting right into it. All my lessons teaching him dirty talk really paid off. “Yes, Master,” I hurriedly did just as he asked patiently waiting for the next command.

 

 

Castiel’s gaze traveled down my body to my cock. “So thick and long isn’t it? I’d love to wrap my mouth around it and watch you as you succumb. The face you make when you come is absolutely divine. But I have a different idea.”

 

 

I was on the edge of my seat. I was shaking with the need for release. I wanted, needed some friction, needed an orgasm.

 

 

“Close your eyes Crowley…All the way,” Castiel moves to stand directly behind me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. “Good boy. Now imagine how this man looked. He opened his brown eyes and he looked around at the place he was in. He saw tarp. He must have been afraid. Do you remember the fear in his eyes and then the shock as he looked at you. He tried to figure out who you were, only to realize he didn’t know you. Remember the shift in his eyes when he realized what was happening? He sputtered he wasn’t into guys. Hilariously stupid, no? Then you stepped forward and you told him you were a serial killer. The light went out in his eyes. Panic came over his whole being. It was delightful to watch.”

 

 

I could picture it so well. It was like a movie playing in my head. My breathing hitched as I could feel my cheek get warmer and a pleasure start to form. I couldn’t believe it but I was close to coming just from words. Castiel was made for me.

 

 

“Remember when you slowly reached over and got the knife to prove your point? The blood dripping, drop by drop, splashing onto the floor. Life stopped around us, words held no meaning, the blood was all that mattered.”

 

 

I took a shuddered breath.

 

 

“That’s right, Crowley. You’re powerful. You're a man that chooses who dies. You stabbed him, made it last long. You are an artist. Now remember that threesome we had? Remember that man? How hard you thrusted into him. You grabbed his hair, your hands on his throat. He thought nothing of it. Asked you to go harder. Imagine fucking him while I watched? Imagine how well we were made for each other. How my mouth fits perfectly around your cock taking you all the way down my throat, your hands on my face forcing me to stay there while you thrust as fast as you can chasing your orgasm.”

 

 

I shouted Castiel’s name coming hard all over my stomach. My orgasm kept coming and coming. It was the most intense orgasm I ever had and he didn’t even touch me. I vaguely heard Castiel said, “That’s fucking right. You’re mine. Mine to fuck and tease and to get off. And you came from MY words. You’re my soulmate.”

 

 

I passed out after that and woke up to a slight jostling and a car engine purring. Castiel reached over and caressed my cheek.

 

 

Castiel smiled down at me warmly, his voice soft. “I took care of everything my love. Next kill is mine. But I think knowing how much you like to be in control, payback is in order.”

 

 

A slow smile came across my face. “Indeed it is, Pet,” I confirmed as we got out the car in a new small town.

 

 

“Which one do you like? “ I asked Castiel.


End file.
